January 3rd
by Chaser-Cya
Summary: Quarte thinks and talks about his father. kind of depressing and such.


Title - January 3rd  
  
Author - Chaser  
  
Warning - none really, just depressing  
  
Pairings - NONE  
  
Author notes- Quatre POV.first this just Quatre talking and remembering his father. Nothing big just a bit depressing if you ask me.  
  
  
  
Today's the day all over again. It comes so fast and passes some times without notice. Today might not be as important as the other might but it holds more memories for me. The day of your birth is more significant tan the day you died in my heart. The day you died was horrible but expected. I knew from our last meeting that you were going to die. Though I never thought it would be so quick, so simple, so unappreciated. As many years as you lived and as many people you knew. Only a few shed an honest tear. Unfortunately I was one who wept dishonestly. I cared yet I didn't feel anything. I cried for you, I screamed at you, I wanted you not to go but what could I do. I was young and helpless against fate.  
  
That day holds memories yet I can not remember them as clearly as your last birthday. Tears fill my eyes as I remember. I clearly can see when I went out alone shopping for your gift. I see me unable to figure out what to get you. I remember getting you the same thing as the year before. It was the only thing I knew you would use. There are some many of us children; I wanted to make sure you remembered me most of all.  
  
You could have called me selfish, anal, spoiled or just lazy. I can plead guilty to all of those except one. For I was never lazy. Maybe a little in the sense of going to visit you more often, maybe forgiving you for your words that cut me deeply.  
  
Before you died I hated you. I wanted nothing to do with you yet secretly wanted your approval and acceptance. I wanted you to see me for who I was. The man I was becoming. I wanted you to see that I was just like you. Choosing not to remember those days I block them out. Purposely forgetting all that was said between us. I know I shouldn't have said what I did and I regret them now, as I know you do too.  
  
We were stubborn and pig headed then.  
  
Not like on your last birthday. Do you remember when you opened you gift from me and everyone looked at me like I was cheap and it was an ill- conceived gift. Remember how you laid my gift on your lap and kept it there. Even as you were giving more expansive gifts, gifts we both know you would never use and they would sit at the bottom of the closet. With the entire collection of other pasted gift you'd received.  
  
I know it bothered my sisters to see you with my gift all the time. While they never again saw theirs. I knew you well didn't I father? I knew you best. Yet in you last hours we could not forgive and speck to each other.  
  
That is why I fondly remember you birth to your death. You death day passes without so much as a thought. As if it not an important day, as if it never happened. Others called me callus, spoiled, and insensitive even. You can see the humor in that father can't you? Me insensitive.as if that was even possible. They do not understand that fonder memories are the ones worth wild, Worth the time of thought. The time to remise.  
  
The good times father that is what I remember about you. The way you would make me laugh when I was feeling lonely. The way you would teach me to have compassion of all not just for whom I know. The day you secretly had me wrap my own holiday gifts and told me they were for my sisters. Even though that annoyed me at first. When I got older it taught me to expect the unexpected. Not just from strangers but from the people you know.  
  
You knew I spent hours looking for a gift for you yet always came home with the same gift year after year. I know you knew what it was every year yet you acted as if it was a surprise every time. For that I love you. For that I will only remember the good times. Those were our finest moments. We had bad times father, we really did. I hated you for leaving me; you hated me for taking up arms. Now a man I realized we both made grave mistakes. Yet I think, no I feel that me here telling you this help bond the rift between us.  
  
For a long time I hated you for dying, for leaving me but I realized it wasn't you I hated. It was me I hated. I thought it was my fault for your death. I drove you to the breaking point. However you I know it was your decision and chose to do as you deemed fit. If I could do it all over again, if I could twist times arm and make it happen again. I know I could do nothing different. I know that now and I do not hate you for it. Yet I do not admire you for it either. I think you know I never will but I have come to terms with it and no mater what you will always be my father. Not matter what, when I cross over in my death I will see you again and we can remise on the good times. I know you wait for me there holding my dear mothers' hand. I know you both gave everything you had so my children and I could have a future.  
  
For that I love you. I love you both for that. There are many things I love you for and many things I hate you for. However the love will always be there while the hate will pass like a vile virus.  
  
I sit here talking to nothing and yet something is let you know I remember you. I miss you and most of all I love you.  
  
  
  
Notes: The gift was embossed handkerchiefs with the first letter to his name on them. This was just written for the pure purpose of getting my feeling about my own fathers' death and our relationship off my mind. Today the 3rd is his birthday and most of this is true. Other than the fact of watching him die. I do not know how my father died in all honestly. Sorry if I depressed anyone. 


End file.
